


A Walk Through the Scottish Countryside

by Violette_Witch



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Fluff, Good Cows, M/M, scottish holiday
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-12 12:14:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28635330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Violette_Witch/pseuds/Violette_Witch
Summary: Jon and Martin are enjoying their "holiday." Complete with flowers, good cows, and fluffy conversations about when they caught feelings for each other.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 7
Kudos: 73





	A Walk Through the Scottish Countryside

Martin closed his eyes and took in a deep breath of the Scottish mountain air, smiling to himself. Just a week ago, he would never had believed it if someone had told him he could feel this good. The sun was shining down on the green fields around him, he was well rested, well fed, and on a walk through the countryside with his boyfriend.

His boyfriend … wait, where had Jon gone?

His good mood was almost ruined, but before he had a chance to panic he turned and saw Jon a few feet down the path, staring at something in the grass.

“Jon,” he called, making his way over to him, “what are you doing?”

Jon looked up, straightening his knees, “oh sorry, I just – I was looking at these flowers,” he said.

“Yeah?” Martin prompted, not sure what else to say as he looked at the little yellow flowers that dotted the grass around them.

“Yes,” Jon continued, “They’re called the yellow mountain violet, and one plant can stretch across great distances.” Martin had not been expecting a lecture on flowers but he raised his eyebrows and listened as Jon continued, “You see, they create these little creeping stems that weave through the grass, and flower in multiple places, spreading all over the meadow. Sort of like –”

“Like a web,” Martin finished, putting his hands in his pockets.

“Yes.” Jon was silent for a moment, before jumping in with more facts. “Also, the bottom petal is larger than the rest, and it acts as a sort of landing pad for the bees.” He was talking with his hands, and Martin found himself watching those more than his face; his scarred fingers poking through gray finger-less gloves and telling a story of their own. “Because of the way the flower is designed, only bees landing on that particular petal are able to access the nectar inside, and it’s impossible for them not to collect all the pollen, which in turn helps spread the growth of this plant even further through the field.”

“Fascinating,” Martin said with a smile.

“So really, these flowers have evolved quite well to help them flourish in their environment,” Jon finished, his voice had a far-away tone to it as he scanned the horizon and Martin had a feeling he wasn’t thinking about flowers anymore. Adaptation, change … those had become heavy topics.

“Didn’t know you knew so much about botany,” Martin said eventually, leaning down to examine the small yellow flowers.

Jon chuckled a little uncomfortably, “er … I didn’t. But,” he sighed, “well, sometimes it’s nice to _Know_ something that doesn’t have to do with … fears and … death.”

Martin stood back up and looked at Jon, who had buried his chin back into the scarf around his neck, hiding his face from the chilly October air. He looked so small in that moment, arms stuffed in his coat pockets, glasses fogging up from his breath against his scarf. It was almost easy for Martin to forget that this little man was a powerful eldritch being, capable of seeing and knowing almost anything in the world.

Sometimes Martin wished that he didn’t have to be. That they could go back to before all of this had happened, before the Avatars, the Unknowing, and everything that had happened with Peter Lukas, back to when they were both just two men who had lied about their ages, working in an archive. But they were here now. And there were some things he wouldn’t change.

“What else do you want to know then?” He asked, elbowing Jon slightly to gently nudge him back into the present. Jon looked at him questioningly. “You could know anything like … how long did it take for those mountains to form, what kind of wild life frequents this area, what kind of bird is that,” he pointed at a bird that passed them over head, “or … oh, I know! Where can we find some _good_ cows?”

Jon rolled his eyes, but Martin could tell he was smiling under his scarf. He was silent for a moment, then he half-grudgingly said, “the good cows are that way,” taking a hand out of his pocket to point to their left.

“Excellent,” Marin responded, taking hold of Jon’s now-free hand and heading in the direction he’d been pointing.

They walked in silence for a bit, their fingers laced together, until eventually Martin voiced something that had been on his mind, “is there anything you want to know … about me?”

Jon immediately reacted, “no – I mean I don’t – I try not to – “

“No, I don’t mean …” Martin stumbled, “I mean if there’s anything you want to know I’ll gladly tell you. Y’know. Like … what normal couples do,” he smiled a little awkwardly, “I mean I know we’ve known each other for a while but there’s still a lot we haven’t talked about.”

Jon made a pensive noise as they made their way through the green fields. “Oh, I know,” he said eventually, in a rather mischievous tone, “Martin Blackwood, when did you first … _fall for me?_ ” his voice was overly dramatic as he raised his eyebrows sarcastically.

Martin laughed, feeling a blush rise to his face, “I don’t know … when do _you_ think I fell for you?”

Jon chuckled, “Hmm let’s see, was it … when I was paranoid and stalking all of you, or … I know! When I was accused of murder! I’m sure that did it. I hear fugitives are considered _very_ sexy –”

“Shut up!” Martin said with a laugh, although he wasn’t really sure how to react when Jon made light of the traumatic things that had happened to them. He supposed it was all they could do.

“Alright,” Jon said, “then when was it?”

Martin thought for a moment, “It was before all of that,” he answered honestly. “Pretty soon after I started working in the archives, I – I don’t know, I noticed you? And you seemed so smart, in control and sure of yourself –”

Jon made a noise of disbelief, “Well, I certainly proved you wrong pretty quickly.”

Martin shoved Jon slightly with his shoulder, laughing away the comment, “but I just remember that I really wanted to show you that I was serious about my job. I wanted _you_ to think _I_ was smart and sure of myself, I guess.”

“Was it really that long ago?” Jon asked, his attitude growing more somber.

“There was one day,” Martin started, a memory forming in his mind like peering through a foggy window, “Tim and Sasha had already left, but you were working late and I decided to stay. I came into your office with two cups of tea, and we sat and talked for a bit. Mostly about the statements you were working on, things about them that frustrated or confused you. Honestly, I’m not even sure you knew it was me you were talking to at first, or if you just needed to let off some steam, have someone to bounce ideas off of.” He smiled fondly at the memory, Jon pacing around the room, listing off facts and names that must have been connected, but not bothering to voice the connections out loud. Jumping from one statement to another in a way that confused and fascinated Martin. He’d done his best to follow Jon’s train of thought, to offer helpful suggestions, but mostly he had just been there to listen. “When we finally got ready to leave, you noticed the time,” Martin said, “and then you apologized to me, and genuinely thanked me for staying late, saying I had been a ‘big help.’ That was … I think that was the first time I felt like you really _saw_ me, and that was when I had to admit to myself that what I felt for you was more than … admiration.”

Jon didn’t say anything for a moment. They walked on, the grass swishing around their legs as they hiked toward the promise of cows. “God,” he finally said, “I’m sorry, I really was a prick to you back then, wasn’t I?”

Martin chuckled, “It’s alright.”

“No I – I don’t even have a good excuse,” Jon said, “but I do remember that day, now that you mention it. I had no idea – I thought you were just … I don’t know. I was grateful though, even though I didn’t understand why you hadn’t just gone home with the others.”

“Well,” Martin said, “now you know what a pathetic mess I was, trying to hide my _enormous_ crush on my boss for _so_ long,” he laughed at himself, and Jon smiled fondly up at him. His scarf had slipped down around his neck again, exposing the bottom half of his face to the October air. Martin had wanted to kiss that face for such a long time, he still sometimes marveled that now he had.

“What about you?” he asked Jon, “when did you realize that you just _had_ to get a piece of this?” he phrased it that way to make Jon laugh – which he did – the air was starting to get a little thick with sincerity.

Jon rolled his eyes again, then chewed his lip contemplatively as they walked. “I think – I mean there was a lot going on … I had a lot of moments when I noticed but. I think the first time I realized there was something was when we were hiding from Prentiss.”

“Really?” Martin asked, taken aback. He had been a hysterical mess at the time.

“Yes, I mean … it was terrifying but we had a chance to sit and talk for a moment and … I don’t know – ”

“You mean the conversation where you thought I might be a _ghost?_ ” Martin asked incredulously.

“Shut up!” Jon protested, shoving his shoulder against Martin, who laughed. “Yes, okay! _That_ conversation. But not the ghost part there was … other stuff.”

Martin smiled over at Jon, “yeah?”

“Yes.” Jon said, but it was obvious he wasn’t going to elaborate. “I mean … obviously it took me a long time to really … do something about it. But, that day I realized how much you mattered to me.”

“Awwww,” Martin said, “that’s sweet.”

Jon glared up at Martin, reaching up to tug his scarf back over his nose. Possibly to hide the fact that he was blushing.

Martin couldn’t believe he had made Jonathan Sims, head archivist, blush.

“The cows are right over there,” Jon said, sounding vaguely disinterested.

Sure enough, the cows were in sight, and Martin let go of Jon’s hand to hurry over to the fence. Jon followed close behind, laughing at Martin’s attempts to get the cow’s attention until one of them came close enough for the two of them to pet.

The cow got ahold of Jon’s scarf, and they had to wrestle it away before it was lost forever. Jon tucked it safely into his pocket then, which meant that he couldn’t hide his contented smile as he ran his fingers over the cow’s soft fur, fully enjoying their holiday in the Scottish countryside. Martin couldn’t stop his own smile from spreading. Yes, technically a lot of things in their life were still terrifying, but he was here with Jon. And he loved him, and he knew Jon felt the same. The sun overhead was slowly sinking toward the horizon, filling the sky with a beautiful array of colors. For a moment, life was better than Martin had ever thought it could be. 


End file.
